It's beginning to smell a lot like Christmas - on Labor Day

So, here we were, the first weekend in September, empty nesters for the first time. We had the whole weekend before us, and what did we do?

How about canning 50 pounds of peaches?

Well, many years ago we had our tomato sauce summer, when the kids were very young. We also had our Chocolate Fruit Cake Christmas when we were first married. So mass quantities of preserved food, for us, is kind of romantic, not to mention nostalgic.

OK, so we ate a few peaches out of the box, made a peach pie, and also four jars of peach chutney. But still, here we were with two crates of peaches, one from New Jersey and one from Venezuela.

It all started with a New York Times Magazine article on canning brandied peaches last month. Why, we thought, wouldn't this make a fantastic Christmas gift idea? Lots of ripe peaches, first rate brandy, and snappy jars! What could be better?

Figuring out the assemblage of pots on our four burners was the trickiest part. It involved closely choreographed kitchen ballet, moving the pots and pans back and forth as each step was completed.

(Also, I burned a finger halfway through the evening and had to keep ice on it the rest of the time. Remember that when you're enjoying your peaches, if you are a lucky recipient this Christmas.)

The entire kitchen smelled great, and became very, very sticky. I am still finding sugar on the cabinet door handles. Also, I think we went through 18 dish towels.

The hinged lid Italian jars (above and below) are very attractive, but they're very awkward to use. The two-part Leifheit jars were almost as attractive, and much easier to fit in the big stock pot.

The first night we canned the crate of white peaches. By the end of the evening, we were getting pretty fast!

Just for the record, the brandy was quite good.

Four hours later, and only one crate processed. So we saved the yellow peaches for Tuesday night (besides, they weren't quite ripe yet).

In the end, I am happy to report that we also had to use my extensive collection of Bonne Maman jelly jars, lovingly collected for many years. I knew they would come in handy one day! (That single purple jar lid was, I think, from a jar of boysenberry jam from last summer. Probably some kind of seasonal, limited edition thing.) All told, we preserved 46 jars of brandied peaches and four jars of chutney!

Of course, we just had to try a jar ourselves.

My Favorite Room

I may as well make it very clear early on in this venture that my favorite room in a house is a library. Notice that I say "a house," and not, "my house," because I don't have a library. Not yet, anyway. But in the meantime I can dream about a classic English library.

The image, above, is a good example. Note the floor to ceiling built-in shelves with discreet lighting fixed to light the books. The shelves are deliberately, but not too perfectly arranged, with some titles lying on their sides (these were probably too tall otherwise). A few well-chosen objets are mixed in to break up the monotony of rows of books. A leather chair is practically a requirement for a classic library, preferably worn and slightly beaten. Finally, strong colors should predominate in my fantasy library. This doesn't mean dark, gloomy, tobacco stained walls and the crepuscular glow of oil lamps. As shown above, a library can still benefit from a fair amount of natural light.

The deep mustard color of these shelves makes my mouth water! Note that these shelves don't reach the ceiling. Instead, molding details and a very pretty scalloped crown continue above. The resulting bookshelf top has allowed the owners to display a jumbled collection - and not surprisingly, more books - including a pretty portrait with blue and red that contrasts beautifully with the yellow woodwork. I also like the way these shelves start about a foot from the ground. These shelves are easy to reach, and therefore must be very easy to use. Note also the arches, which break up the horizontal lines, and the chicken-wire screens used on pairs of arched doors. I could easily meditate in this room for hours, without even picking up a book.

Other essential ingredients for my library: A variety of quirky Edwardian upholstered furniture (see my post on loveseats for some examples), plenty of good reading lights at each chair and sofa, small tables dotted around for drinks and my laptop, a well worn oriental rug, a few simple flowers (not too fancy, or if they are then just one or two sitting in a small vase or cup), a couple of antique occasional chairs, at least a little bit of velvet or embroidery in the textiles. And lots of art work, in different styles, sizes and heights on every wall, with appropriate picture lighting, and perhaps even hanging from some of the shelves themselves.

It should all be organized, but still haphazard. Does that even make sense?

What I don't like: Heavy drawing room curtains. These would just feel too oppressive. Not to mention they would be gigantic and expensive dust, pollen and odor collectors. Simple straight panels to keep the room balanced and keep out the drafts, combined with shades if necessary, are fine, thank you.

In At Home with Books: How Book Lovers Live with and Care for Their Libraries, authors Estelle Ellis and Caroline Seebohm and photographer Christopher Simon Sykes capture many examples of real-life libraries that inspire my fantasy. As to why I and others find these rooms so captivating, the authors write in their introduction:

Book-centered rooms are described as nurturing, a comfort zone, an

escape hatch, a place to retreat to for tea and talk, thinking and

reading, recapturing memories, regenerating spirit and ideas.

Some other inspirational titles: The English Room, by Chippy Irvine and photos also by Mr. Sykes; Perfect English, by Ros Byam Shaw; and Domestic Art: Curated Interiors by Holly Moore, Rob Brinkley, and Laurann Claridge. There are lots of other great examples; these are just a few of my favorites.

I'll leave you with a few more images. These are updated, lighter versions that would work well in the average home. The first two are from Domino:

Seasonal Walk

For me, no trip to New York would be complete without a visit to the New York Botanical Garden. It is so easy to get to by subway or car, that there is no excuse not to visit this beautiful refuge in the Bronx.

Right now, my idea of Paradise would be to live in this garden, the Seasonal Walk, created by two of the most talented garden designers now in practice, Piet Oudolf and Jacqueline van der Kloet. These Dutch designers are first and foremost plant-centric. They both build on a solid foundation of design, but their priority is the plants. Piet is a well-known proponent of perennials in the Dutch "new wave" movement; Jacqueline is the bulb specialist. Their program was to create a four-season border alongside the NYBG's Enid A. Haupt Conservatory. Imagine having two huge borders - one 186 feet and the other 86 feet long - to plan, plant, and nurture!

The project has been so successful that the NYBG has extended the show for an additional year, through 2010. Even if you won't be able to enjoy the garden in person, the Seasonal Walk Chronicles are well worth repeated visits online. Garden writer Tovah Martin and photographer Rob Cardillo have created a terrific diary of the garden's development. It's a must-read for any of us interested in learning the secrets of the Dutch dynamic duo who have previously collaborated on two projects, both in the US: Battery Park in New York and the Millennium Park in Chicago.

I can't wait to visit this special place again; perhaps this fall. Stay tuned! I hope to bring you some of my own photos of the Seasonal Walk myself.

In the meantime, here is a sample of beautiful photos taken by my very talented son Peter during our trip to the NYBG two summers ago.

All photos copyright 2009 by Peter M. Mueller.

Dark Mantel

There has to be some sort of compensation for putting up with Washington-area traffic, cost of living, and humidity.

Indeed there is, for any time you have a few hours you can head down to the National Gallery of Art. It is simply one of the finest museum experiences you are liable to find anywhere, just for the sheer beauty of the buildings, if not the magnificent art. This is exactly what we did last weekend.

We are trying to enjoy the last days of summer before we pack off our younger child to college. He, being an eager photographer, suggested the trip. And the first gallery we visited was the Small French Paintings, located in the East Building's lower level.

Donated by Ailsa Mellon Bruce, this collection is one of our family's favorites.

The painting that really caught my eye on this visit is Edouard Vuillard's Vase of Flowers on a Mantelpiece, c. 1900.

What a fantastic idea! I started picturing our mantel painted black. Now that would really pull together the new seating arrangement, giving our modest living room an undeniable focal point. It would also give a bit of edge to a room filled with furniture that is either painted off-white or just medium brown wood. And what about that bit of greeny blue in the mirror's reflection? I've been thinking of using that as the fabric color for the eventual new loveseat. I also love the touch of green on the crown molding. This echos the green of our adjacent dining room.

Although it has a late Victorian look to it, the painting and the room have a distinctly lighter French feel.

The only question is, would the mantel look best in a glossy or eggshell finish?

Vuillard liked to include at least one prominent dark object in many of his works. Here's a pastel entitled Madame Josse Hessel in Vuillard's Studio from 1915.

Many of the same colors are used in this painting. There's the overall softness of the pinky beige walls and blue door sharpened by the dark seated figure on the left and the artist's shelves on the right. And again a touch of green through the doorway and above the shelves.

I think I see a pattern developing here for my ongoing pursuit of living room decoration.

Vase of Flowers courtesy of the National Gallery of Art; Madame Hessel courtesy of The Athenaeum.

Looking for a Loveseat

I'm looking for a loveseat.

A couple of months ago I moved my desk into the empty corner in my living room. It completed the room. There was only one problem:  I couldn't sit at the desk or open the drawers because the sofa was in the way. So I moved it.

Now it sits in the middle of the room, creating two distinct areas. One is seating in front of the fireplace. The other is an extension of my tiny entry hall, with a bench, bookcase and the above mentioned desk.

I love the change, especially the seating nook. Guests gravitate to it, and along with a couple of chairs, an ottoman and a pair of little tables under the windows on either side of the fireplace, it makes the ideal seating arrangement for a space-challenged living room.

Now, however, I've introduced another problem. The sofa is too long for its current location, leaving very little room to walk around it on either side. It's a very nice Henredon model, with a bench seat. It is probably the best napping sofa I've ever used.

But now I'm looking for a loveseat. Here are a few that inspire me. The first is from Williams Sonoma Home; the rest are from Lee.

You get the idea. I'm looking for a classic Edwardian sofa(ette), short enough to fit in my room, but cushy enough to be comfortable.

We're not ready to buy yet. But I know I'll have fun looking until then.

Welcome

A TEA PARTY GONE WRONG. Ribby, the hostess, has no idea that that her guest, Duchess, has replaced her main course - a pie made of mouse - with a pie made of veal and ham. And how does Duchess get away with this little sleight of hand? She and Ribby own identical pink-and-white pie dishes, both purchased from Tabitha Twitchit's shop in town. 

The Pie and the Patty Pan has always charmed me.  Foxgloves and delphiniums overflow in Duchess' front yard. The postman delivers the tea party invitation from Ribby on the very same day it is sent to Duchess. And when they pass each other earlier in the day, before the party, they don't speak, because they are going to see each other in a much more formal social setting later in the day!

A gentler age perhaps.